


Make Me

by captiveCorsair



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Dualscar/Mindfang (mentioned), F/F, au where Mindfang's hanging of Redglare failed, everything else still happened though, just a drabble for now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 03:47:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7206050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captiveCorsair/pseuds/captiveCorsair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a storm brewing on the horizon and you know you should make port soon, but the closest port is one frequented by a certain legislacerator who you’ve been avoiding; ever since she nearly hung you and you nearly hung her. It’s a complicated relationship. Well it’s not really a relationship, but it could be… if she reciprocated.</p>
<p>* * *</p>
<p>In which Mindfang sets her eyes on a new kismesis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Me

You stand on the quarterdeck of your flagship, Arachnid’s Grip, and gaze across the ship and the sea beyond it. There’s a storm brewing on the horizon and you know you should make port soon, but the closest port is one frequented by a certain legislacerator who you’ve been avoiding; ever since she nearly hung you and you nearly hung her. It’s a complicated relationship. Well it’s not really a relationship, but it could be… if she reciprocated.

You shake your head, long hair curling over your shoulder, and put such thoughts out of your head. It was time to make a decision. You know your crew is good, you trained them to be, but you doubt even the fastest ship in the Imperial Navy, which you happen to have in your possession, could outrun the fast-approaching storm for long. Which means you don’t really have a choice.

“Hard to starboard!” you yell to your crew. “We’re making port!”

You watch for a moment as trolls scramble to follow your orders, before stalking forward and taking control of the wheel yourself. Nobody can handle your ship better than you, especially as the first storm winds begin to batter at the ship’s rigging.

A few minutes later and the waves are surging up and crashing against the side of the ship, splashing the salty water in your face and mouth. You spit it out, a grimace twisting your features for a second. Bad memories, that taste.

A few trolls swing the boom around and the sails catch the wind, sending your ship flying towards its destination. It’s a struggle with the storm, but eventually you glide your ship into the harbour of a small town.

You watch until you’re sure the sails have been furled properly, everything is securely tied down and the anchor has been dropped. Then you pick a few of the crew to come ashore with you; really they’re just there to do the rowing though. Later you’ll send them back with the rowboat and the crew can fight over who gets to spend the night ashore. They lower the rowboat onto the water and climb down. You give a last look around the ship. You give a half wave half salute to your crew, and grin as they give fairly decent salutes back. One hand on the railing, you leap over and onto the boat, landing gracefully despite the heels on your boots.

“Let’s go,” you say to the men in the rowboat, and they quickly start rowing you towards the docks.

A troll comes running up the second your feet land on the dock, demanding your name, your ship’s name and that you sign a bunch of papers. The fool doesn’t know who you are. You smile sweetly, the image ruined slightly by your fangs and the six menacing trolls at your back. You inform him that your name is Mindfang, that you’re the leader of a notorious fleet of Gamblignants, and that you never have and never will sign paperwork.

He goes pale and stutters that everyone needs to sign the papers if they want to be allowed past the docks. Your power flares for a moment and you’re striding past, leaving the poor bastard to your crew, who are always itching for something to punch.

You grin over your shoulder. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!” you say to the trolls and laugh. Because what wouldn’t you dare to do? You appropriated the Imperial Navy’s best ship as your own flagship, making a few alterations; you had a blackrom with the Empress’s own moirail; you killed His Honorable Tyranny. And that’s just to name a few of the bold adventures you’ve had. This is why your name is so well known. You earned it.

A smug smirk playing on your lips, you head to the town tavern, as a light drizzle starts. It’s not a big town, but the tavern serves good drinks and you feel like you’ve earned one. If anybody asked, you would never admit that the reason your ship had been close enough to this town to escape the storm was because you had been hanging around because of a certain legislacerator, nor would you admit that you hadn’t quite wanted to approach because of said legislacerator. It had been nearly half a sweep since you’d tried to hang her, and she was the one who tried to hang you first, surely she had gotten over it by now. Besides you were the one who lost an arm and an eye to her and her damn dragon lusus.

“Who even has a dragon lusus anyway????????” you growl softly. The dragon surprised you greatly and you had severely underestimated the legislacerator. But then, she underestimated you too. You’re just glad it didn’t end there; that would have been a shame.

You reach the tavern just as the rain starts to come down harder and quickly slip inside, pausing at the door to look around. There’s no sign of her. You release a sigh of… relief? Disappointment? You’re not sure. Either way, you decide you definitely need a drink. You head to the bar, grab a tankard of ale and seat yourself at a table in the corner, where you have a good view of the door.

A few drinks later and you hear it start to pour outside. The tavern door slams open, followed by a white cane and you feel your breath hitch in your throat. You wanted this, but now that it’s so close you find yourself wanting to flee. This is a new feeling, you’ve never fled from anything in your life; not even a dragon. A troll comes after the cane, curled horns and a very olive coloured symbol on their chest.

You sink your head to the table, hiding your flushed face, a mix of alcohol and embarrassment.

“Look at you! You pitch-struck fool!” you curse yourself softly. You sigh softly into your one arm, your mechanical one still holding your drink, and close your eyes. You were so sure… that she’d be here…

You’re not sure if you fell asleep, but suddenly your drink is plucked from your hand. You jerk up and nearly fall backwards off the chair. You thrust a hand out to grab at the table and prevent yourself from toppling over. Once you’re sure you have your balance, you glare up at the idiot who thought to steal your drink.

Except you’re staring up into red glasses and… Oh. It’s her.

You’re sure she’s giving you an appraising look from under those accursed glasses and you suddenly feel the urge to squirm. Instead you force a smirk onto your face.

“Resorted to stealing now, have we legislacerator?” you ask, attempting to sound casual. She had just caught you sleeping on a table in a tavern after all. You feel your cheeks begin to flush blue.

A low smirk works its way across her face, letting you know that she’s noticed the faint blush. “Resorted to sleeping in taverns, Mindfang?” she retorts. Your name on her lips sounds delicious, and you resolve to make her say it more.

You gesture at your drink. “Give it back…” you pause and then let her name drip from your lips, “Redglare.”

A slight shudder goes through her and she freezes. This time your grin isn’t forced; you’re very much pleased at the effect that had on her.

She notices your smug expression, returns one of her own. “Why would I make it easy, Gamblignant?” she asks. Hmm perhaps you weren’t as subtle as you thought about liking the way she said your name. Suddenly she turns around and strides towards the door. Her movements are lithe and supple and you find yourself watching closely. She stops at the door, looks over her shoulder and adds, “Come over here and make me.” Then she’s gone, out the door and into the pouring rain. With your drink.

It takes you a moment to register her words, and then you’re after her. The rain is coming down quite heavily outside, but luckily your hat shields your eyes from the worst of it. You spot her standing a little ways down the street.

“Now you really are stealing!” you call out to her.

“It’s not stealing if it’s from a pirate!” she calls back and you can hear the smirk in her voice. Then she raises your drink to cheers you and takes a sip, before turning and fleeing around a corner.

“If it’s a chase you want, then it’s a chase you’ll get; I never lose my prey,” you growl after her. But you’re grinning wide and you’re having fun. You never thought she would be so daring.

You follow her around the corner and again you find her standing at the end of the street. Your drink is still in her one hand, and her cane in the other. She’s drenched from the rain, her hair sticking to her and a cocky grin plastered across her face. She looks wonderful and you want to wipe that grin off her face.

“Found you,” you call out in a singsong voice. “I thought you said you weren’t going to make this easy, Redglare.” Again her name drips suggestively from your lips, and you make sure she realizes you’re doing it on purpose.

“Oh I’m just getting started, Mindfang,” she practically purrs in return. That sends a jolt through you. Oh how good she is at turning the tables on you. Much better than Dualscar ever was. Although you have one thing to thank him for; his actions led to your encounter with Redglare. Still, the thought of him leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. Speaking of a bitter taste, there she goes taking a sip of your drink again.

You stalk forward and she turns and takes flight again, around another corner. You follow her, and yet again find her at the other end of the street. How is she so fast?

She raises a hand to her mouth and you realize she’s yawning. “I thought you never lose your prey?”

“I haven’t lost you yet,” you reply.

She just smirks. You know she’s playing with you. She knows she’s able to, for now at least. She lifts the tankard and takes a long swig of your drink. You’re itching to take that back from her, but you just stand and watch her. She’s thin and bony, but you’ve seen her- faced her in a fight and you know just how well she can move. Just how deadly she is. Not as deadly as you, of course.

She notices you watching her and decides it’s a good moment to turn and run again.

You give chase, but you’re getting kind of sick of this game. So you decide to not stop next time; it’s about time you get your drink back.

You round the corner, but she’s not there. You’ve reached the edge of town. To your right, the street leads back to the docks. And to the left…

Despite your intentions, you skid to a stop. She’s standing just outside of town, past the town walls, with the tankard at her feet and leaning both hands on her dragon-head cane.

“Thanks for the drink, Mindfang!” she says, a grin playing along her lips. “Maybe I’ll return the favour one day.”

“How about right now?” you asked, smiling at her like a predator who’s cornered its prey. You saunter towards her, taking your time.

She gives you a toothy smile and you falter in your step, because she’s way too pleased with herself and you should definitely have the upper hand.

That’s when you hear them behind you, and you whip around. At least a dozen armed trolls block your escape back into the town, and most of them have rifles pointed right at your chest.

You try to reach into their minds and take control, but none of them even twitch. Seems Redglare had found some trolls even you couldn’t control.

You turn back to face Redglare, and yes that’s definitely a triumphant grin on her face.

It was a trap all along.

You don’t know whether to be furious or impressed, maybe a bit of both. You underestimated her again. Underestimating her is a dangerous thing, you decide. You also decide she would make a veeeeeeeery suitable kismesis indeed.


End file.
